So-Called Defender of Earth
by elsatheflamequeen
Summary: She knows, has known for a while, that she will never truly live up to the title. She will always just be Rose Tyler. Rated T for moderate swearing.


Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth.

What a laugh.

You want to accept the title, but you simply can't. Because you know that the defender of your planet (and the rest of the universe) will always be him. Be it your old Earth or this new one with zeppelins in the sky and no TARDISes saving people. He'll always be the knight in shining armor, the liberator and redeemer.

He flies around in that wonderful blue box, bringing both joy and ruin at the same time. Looking back on it all, you see that whatever happiness you had felt with him had always been either followed or induced by some destruction.

Always.

(_And that's what you told him, isn't it? Forever._)

That's the hardest part, you imagine, about being him. That's why he never mentioned Sarah Jane or any of his other companions- they deserted him in one way or another and left him with ache after ache in his hearts.

That is why he never looks back. Why he always pushes onward, evading painful questions like the plague.

'No. Not you,' he'd said when you asked if he'd forget you. (_You still hear him say it, sometimes, when you're all alone with no sound but the memories._)

The liar.

That's all he does, really. Save a few planets, leave people behind. Meet an alien race, leave people behind. Rewrite history, leave people behind.

And, despite knowing he'll never change (_you knew the entire time that you'd eventually lose him_) you mourn for him. Being trapped, away from him, in a bloody parallel universe does no wonders for your sanity. You know your mother and Pete are worried, but you can't really bring yourself to care.

You don't really care about much anymore, nothing other than that damned Dimension Cannon. It could either save or kill you. (_You don't even know if the piece of shit will even work right. It could send you straight to the Void, with no chance of survival._) But you figure death is probably better than never seeing him again.

Anything is better than never seeing him again.

Because if you live another day without him, you know you'll choke. Every breath you breathe is a mouthful of air without him, and you can't stand that. (_What kills you the most is that you're having trouble remembering his voice, his laughter. Everything fades away eventually, but why that? That, of all things, should stay forever._)

It's horrifying to consider that you may have to live a normal human life for the rest of your days, eating beans on toast and ending up with two-point-five kids and a picket fence.

When you finally reconfigure the Dimension Cannon so that the temporal energy will propel you back across the walls of reality, you hold your breath as you set the coordinates. You press the button.

And in a blurry whirlwind of blue plasmatic energy, you cross dimensions. And for the first time in longer than you can remember, you're hopeful.

* * *

You see him and you can't breathe. He's exactly as you remember. Tall, skinny, insane hair, liquefying brown eyes, billowing coat-

And then, almost arbitrarily, he's dead.

_Dead_.

It's so sudden you can't even comprehend it properly. One second you're running to him, smiling and elated, and the next he's been shot by a Dalek and struggling to breathe.

You want to scream. You've barely come back from that awful alternate universe where he has drowned, and what do you find? Him, dead.

The universe must be feeling particularly bitchy today.

_Please, _you plead. If there's some deity out there, you hope it's listening. _Please let him come back._

Surprise, surprise, he's figured yet another way to cheat death. "_It's the curse of the Time Lords_," he'd told you.

And yet you can't help but think how bloody useful that whole little regeneration energy thing is. Some curse.

Although, you speculate, it would get pretty boring after a while. Life, that is. Living was irksome enough for so long, but it you could spend eternity with anyone, it would definitely be him. No hesitation.

Your brief moment of panic is over and the Doctor is alive and well, with the same face. That was always a plus.

He stands up, smiles at you like he can't believe your there (he probably can't), and resumes saving the world. Average day for him, really.

* * *

When the Daleks are defeated and most of the companions are respectively dropped off at Earth (_see? There he goes again, leaving people_) and it's just you and him - and Jackie, Donna, and the Meta-Crisis, but who's counting? - and you're so happy you can barely speak.

You're _here_, with _him_, and everything is so perfect you have a sneaking suspicion it won't last for another ten minutes.

And you're right, of course. A poet once said, "_Nothing gold can stay_," and you can't help but agree. Even if it's remotely shiny, it has to go eventually.

Except it's not Daleks or Cybermen or even some alien overlord taking you away from him, it's his bloody choice to make you leave.

And as you stand on that beach with two Doctors, one who you now hate and one you are hesitant of, you know that no matter how hard you try, no matter how long you fight, he's just going to leave you here. He's going to plop you here in a parallel universe and you won't ever get back to him now.

Your heart breaks with an audible _crack_. And you know he hears it.

You want to cry, but steel yourself as he looks at you sadly. The Meta-Crisis (_he's _human _now, he'll grow old and die with you_) whispers into your ear.

"I love you."

You look at him with big eyes and then he's kissing you, and you're melting against him, and he's exactly like you remember it, all bittersweet and wonderful, and you hear the _vrwoosh vrwoosh _of the TARDIS leaving.

You break away from the kiss, the tears breaking free. He _left_. He didn't even say goodbye, the bastard.

He promised he would never leave you.

The Meta-Crisis (_he's still your Doctor, but he'll never abandon you_) takes your hand and you cry silently.


End file.
